The Mind of the Witch
by Moonstarslight
Summary: They thought him spoiled. They thought him cruel. Well just what do they know? It isn't so simple as one might think being a Chaos Lord, after all.
1. The Mind of the Witch

Alright I know I need to put up the fourteenth chapter of _A Witch and a Lord_ and start cracking out the fifteenth one as well. But it wouldn't let me write anything else!

Anyway this is in a different AU I have. Warning! Possible Out of Characterness, Alternate universe, and not happy. At all.

However I hope you enjoy this insight into Klarion the Witch-boy's mind.

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 _ **The Mind of the Witch**_

It was always like this. Everyday sense he gained the Chaos it was like this. Storming and world tittering. No matter if he tried to breathe deeply and slowly it still raged. It didn't matter if he let it out a little. It still clouded his vision and made his ears ring.

It was annoying. Not even Teekl could break through it with her calm tones and calls when it got bad. And Teekl was the one who could talk him into practically anything. It frightened him to know that if it got too bad he might hurt someone or permanently destroy something because his anchor can't get through to him.

Everyone around him thinks that he likes acting like a spoiled brat and cruel to everyone. They have no clue that was his only way of staying stable. He _hated_ acting like he didn't care. That he _laughed_ at someone being tortured. That he had to fuss and pitch a fit when his barely controlled world is disturbed so he can _keep it stable._ Sure he isn't a good person. But he had morals. Even if they were wishy-washy. It was still there and he was proud once that it didn't take much to be reminded of following them. A little argument from Teekl, mainly by refusing to move, and he would do what was deemed _right._

But now he can't see that little compass that pointed him straight. It is lost in the drums, fog, lighting, and screams which fill his head. The only hope for his world being stabilized, even if it was for a few days, was now fighting against him and Teekl. All because in his desperation for stability and control he joined these people.

It was also the Chaos which led him into joining the Light. It screamed in glee and pushed and pulled until he found himself standing before the group as one of them. Lost and confused he just went with it. Like he has been doing sense Uncle Jason died.

When it was a good day he could practice spells from his old books and rhyme out his more powerful incantations. He could _think._ He could talk to Teekl and enjoy her company. He could think out plans and write them out. He could summon demons and talk to them. He could be _himself._ But those days were rare.

Most days were either alright, descent, or horrifying. Alright days was when he could interact with people and still think somewhat logically. He could still talk to Teekl and feel his love for her. She could talk him into little plans of mischief and he could laugh happily about them. Even if some of them ended up a bit crueler than originally intended.

Descent days were when he could still realize someone was talking to him and not do something to make them hate him. He needed Teekl to be his planner and logic seer, and deep down he's grateful but consciously he sneers at her and begrudgingly follows her words. Those days he commonly calls her stupid and tells her to shut up. Yes there were times when he called her stupid when he was annoyed that she was right a long time ago, but now it _hurts_ him to say those things.

Because a new part of him means it.

And that scares him deeply. More than when everything of the Blue Rafters was loud and hurtful. More that when Melmoth threatened his hometown and his family. More so when Ezekiel was killed by the Horigal and he gained the attention of the beast.

And he never thought anything could scare him more than when the Chaos first came. But there might be, he is not sure seeing his thoughts and emotions are disjointed and convoluted.

Horrifying days are when these fears hold fruit. They are more common than he likes. Being lost in the awful thing that is pure chaos within his mind is never fun. He can never tell where he is, what he is doing, or why. Typically these days have total cities destroyed, innocents killed, and guilt hitting him deeply when he sees the results. No one sees what's wrong with this besides Teekl. All the people give him a complaint of _throwing a tantrum_. Like they _know_ what going on with him.

Clueless. They are all clueless. His only hope, The Helmet of Fate and its wonderful Order energy, is now far from his reach. Seeing Nabu sees nothing wrong with him. But what can that geezer know? He was born a Lord of Chaos and later became a Lord of Order. Such a transition is not that hard for his kind. They are meant to be holding these powers.

Not him. Not his kind. Sure they are sweet when he can control them. But the price is not one he can pay. He is not meant to hold the purity of Chaos itself. He is a witch-person. He wasn't even a full adult when it came into him. And now he will never be a full grown witch-man. It can't happen. The Chaos holds back his aging and if he lost the Chaos he would most likely die.

If it didn't kill him, then its effects on his body would still remain. A piety really. He liked being blue, and the ability to die. He has people to go see on the other side after all. Oh yeah, he liked being able to _talk_ _normally._ It grates on his nerves that his voice is rucked up so bad that he can barely tell that it is him that is talking.

But what does it matter? The world is going to end if the Light wins. And the League will not do anything about him besides send him to Nabu to be talked down and fought against. After all isn't that what Lords of Order and Chaos do? Fight against each other and hope the fight goes their way?

He _hates_ it. He wants it _gone._ He wants to be _normal_ again. But that can never happen. They can't see that he is slowly falling.

That he is losing his delicate control. They can't see. They _won't_ see, in the case of Nabu. Teekl can only do so much. And soon that tie will be nothing more than an anchor to the physical plane.

He is losing himself. His memories are fading and it _scares_ him. He doesn't want to forget his Mother. His annoying big sister and her owl. His step-father. His friends who he met up in the Rafters. His honorary Uncle who never really knew how much Klarion looked up to him. The talking cushion that was once Cousin Harry. The adventures. The lessons. The trouble he got into because he didn't know better or he was bored. The children who he played with in the Secret Subway-rails. The games with the heroes and villains alike.

He does not want to forget. He _has to_ remember. For if he forgets, all is lost. He would not be able to stop from causing deep and devastating destruction. Nabu would fight him off yes. But it is not the same. There would be no peaceful breaks between attacks. Just heal, go to new location, and repeat.

Nabu's host would not be able to take such a strain. _Teekl_ would not be able to take such a thing. It would slowly kill her and there was no true way to insure that he would not hurt her. Sure he would not permanently harm her. She is the link to the physical plane after all. But words are harmful things. And when there are actions to back them it is worse.

She can feel his emotions. And he would not be able to recognize her. His worse fear is that he will forget how important she is to him. His best friend. His familiar. His Teekl.

She is all what is left of his life before. Dick and Tim do not recall him. Bruce hasn't shown anything to point that the acquaintanceship was ever there. Stephanie is missing. His family is dead. The children are dead. Zatanna is not the strong magician he knew she should be.

It hurt. Nothing was how it should be. He does not mind change. But when he desperately needs something to be permanently stable he would like if it was more than just Teekl. Someone who wasn't connected to his mind. To his _soul._

Is it too much to ask for?

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Yeah. I am not sure if I will continue this. So for now it will be marked as complete. If you have something you think can be used in a continuation please tell me. I will need input on what you would like to see.

Thank you!


	2. A Voice Worthy of a Lord

My thanks to nightmaster000 for giving me the ideas to place within this story.

Now this part is a little backstory which tie into the the next chapter. This chapter is also the reason why the rating went up. And I am not sure if it at the right rating act the moment. Please tell me if it is or isn't.

Thank you, pleased enjoy!

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 _ **A Voice Worthy of a Lord**_

It was a rainy day when it happened. He was growling in annoyance because Nabu wasn't answering his questions and Mrs. Nelson was giving less reasons for him to not to disappear and never return.

He was walking down the street of Salem when it happened. On that cold rainy day. Neither Teekl nor Klarion noticed when they had a follower within the shadows. A stupid thing really. They lived in Gotham before the Chaos came so they should have known better. But they didn't.

It was fast and painful. He could not bring up his magic before the strangers clamped on anti-magic cuffs onto his wrists. The cuffs where almost two sizes too small but somehow they went around his wrists. Next they toke Teekl and threw her into a small cage. She hissed angrily and had tried to claw the men holding onto her, and later her cage.

Klarion was woozy from the disconnection from his magic, and these people toke full advantage of that. They bashed his head into the wall of the alley before carving open his clothing with knifes.

Once they could reach newly acquired pale skin they chortled among each other. Growling Klarion tried to get his body to obey him and kick the man in front of him. But with the lack of magic flow he was slow and useless.

Teekl bellowed out a waring before the knife started carving his neck. He gasped and choked as blood ran down from open wounds.

Panting he forced his magic up. It was painful and the cuffs rebelled at that idea. But he has not been living with pure Chaos in his mind for almost five months for nothing.

The cuffs snapped off and his magic lashed out. Destroying the cage around Teekl and killing the fools who attacked them.

Struggling to breathe, the Lord of Chaos placed a shaking hand on his bleeding neck. This was not going to end well for him.

A warm body brushing against his leg caused him to look down. Teekl's red eyes glowed in the darkness. Taking in a shuddering breath he started walking back to the Tower of Fate. This would not be a wound he could heal with his magic the way it is.

It was cold and wet. Blood stained his hand and his steps were shaky. Teekl commonly pushed her head against his leg to help him focus or place it down properly. His vision was blurring. He felt like he was going to suffocate.

He did not realize when he fell nor when he ended up unconscious. All he knew is that he ended up waking up in the Tower of Fate with Teekl watching him warily. His throat was throbbing in pain and his wrists were bound with bandages.

Sighing and wincing at the pain it caused, the witch laid back and stared up at the ceiling. Normally if he got hurt his magic would be able to prevent permanent harm or trouble. However seeing his magic has been mangled and is mostly snapping Chaos energy he knows that this will not be the case this time.

He just has to wonder. What will be the price of this incident?

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Ending chapters with questions. Hopefully it will not be a thing. Anyway if you could not tell this is the little backstory for Klarion's voice not sounding like a normal being's and why he is not happy with it.

Well I will see you next chapter!


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